The Forbidden Love of Aesop Sharp

Chapter 17 - Bruce Winchester

The day at the Grand Hospital began like any other. Following a grueling shift in the maternity ward, I was looking forward to finally heading home. Yet, an eerie stillness hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual frenetic hospital corridors where patients urgently beckoned for nurses and doctors.

Even when the patients weren't the source of commotion, the ceaseless activity of the hospital provided a constant backdrop.

However, on this fateful afternoon, the corridors were unsettlingly empty, and the only sounds that pierced the silence were the plaintive cries of newborns, their wails echoing the rawness of their entrance into the world. Although caring for infants wasn't my usual duty, I found myself standing in for a colleague who had just given birth at the same hospital.

Suppressing a yawn with the back of my hand, I untied the apron that clung to my weary frame and carelessly let it fall into a bin of soiled linens.

My thoughts drifted toward my dinner plans for the evening. A fellow coworker from the surgical emergency unit had invited me earlier in the day, a gesture I had hastily accepted. However, doubt now clouded my mind. The longing to retreat to my apartment and lose myself in the pages of a captivating book had grown stronger.

Moreover, I felt emotionally unprepared for socializing, as my heart and mind were still entangled with a ghost of my past, despite years of physical separation.

With a sigh, I secured my medical kit after carefully stowing away a few potions and headed toward the exit. But just as my hand reached for the door, a deafening explosion ripped through the hospital, causing the walls to shake violently. Instinctively, I clung to a nearby table to prevent myself from being thrown to the ground. My ears rang, and I involuntarily dropped my bag, the sound of it hitting the floor echoing like a heavy thud.

It took several minutes for me to regain my composure and for my hearing to return. Amidst the chaos, the anguished voices of patients and hospital staff filled the air. Without hesitation, I rushed into the hallways to lend assistance, only to be confronted by a nightmarish tableau.

Everywhere I turned, people were screaming and jostling one another, driven by sheer panic to escape the pandemonium. Some lay wounded or lifeless on the unforgiving floor, while others stumbled over their fallen companions in a desperate bid for safety.

My sense of urgency propelled me toward the maternity ward, my stomach churning with anxiety, making each breath a struggle. Pushing open the door, I was met by a heart-wrenching sight: a young woman stood before me, cradling a severely burned infant in her arms, the child already lifeless.

"Please, doctor, help him... he's all I have in this world," she implored, tugging at my gown as she sank to her knees in despair.

Before I could utter a word, another deafening explosion reverberated through the hospital, sending us flying several meters away. I collided violently with one of the room's windows, which shattered on impact. I tumbled to the floor below, surrounded by shards of glass and splintered wood from the explosion. An agonizing pain radiated from my back, leaving me paralyzed and unable to move.

"Katie..." the word floated to my ears, soft as if spoken from the depths of a dream. I remained sprawled on the cold floor, her voice blending with the surrounding cacophony of screams. Yet, there was something different about that voice, a pleading undertone that persisted amidst the chaos, much like the clarion call of a church bell cutting through the monotony of a religious service.

"Katie!" the voice reiterated, now more urgent and resolute. "Honey... wake up."

My eyes shot open, and I inhaled deeply, as though suddenly returning to life. I sat up abruptly on Arlette's couch, my gaze fixed on her with a perplexed and disoriented expression.